A Vote For Lust: A Bad Boy Political Romance

by Natasha Tanner

  Piotr squeezes my arm and turns around again, rushing inside the boat and screaming orders in Russian. “You, cover them! Sergei, turn on the engine! You two...!”

  And then we both realize something at the same time. We know the guys who are guarding the boat. They go by the names of Jack Starr and Pip Glover. The original Russian thugs must be floating somewhere nearby, with hole-riddled chests.

  They don’t have time to reach us. Piotr runs towards the helicopter, dragging me behind like a rag doll. I pound on his arm with my free hand, I claw at his neck, I try to bite his hand, but all of this accomplishes exactly nothing. I start screaming and yelling but the sounds of gunfire and the motor of the boat bury my voice.

  Piotr pushes me into the helicopter by the pilot’s side, then climbs inside without giving me the time to open the other door and run away. He sits in position and turns on the ignition.

  There’s someone else in the helicopter. He presses a gun against Piotr’s neck and tells him that it’s not a good idea to take flight just yet.

  Now I find the tears that have eluded me for a whole day. This man... I love this man so much.

  “She came to America to get married, asshole. You won’t make her say her vows in Russia. I spent two billions dollars to keep her here.” Ace Hart looks me in the eye with absolute aplomb, as the whole world seems to go down around us in a hail of gunfire. “Vanina Vokhtazin, will you marry me?”

  THE RUSSIAN BRIDE

  VAN

  A happy ending is... not very Russian. But what can I say? I’ve never been a typical Russian girl.

  I once thought that the world was very, very badly designed. That life was out to get me, so that it would knock me down every time I stood up and let my guard down. Now I see that I was wrong. All I see in the world speaks to me about a beautiful, intricate design in which every tear and sorrow, every smile and joke, every kiss, every letdown, every plane ticket and every ace of diamonds has its particular place.

  Some call it fate, some use other words. In any case, when you look back, it’s beautiful.

  Speaking of beautiful, this dress is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever put on. Or that someone has put on me, anyway. It flows, it shines, it folds and plays with light with its perfect whiteness, as I walk along the aisle to meet the toughest guy I know.

  Ace Hart, the ace of my heart. Even though his real name is something ridiculous like Ovidius.

  It’s been barely a month since we said goodbye to New York and Little Vegas and everything else. He bailed out and I bailed out with him. We took that trip to Panama, then Mexico, then somewhere else. We live in Bali now, in a nice villa in the middle of a natural paradise where nobody can find us... unless we want to.

  “I will do it for love. I will do it for you,” Ace said back then, and revealed that he had been working on his plan for months. His way out, with me.

  Tara set it all up so that the money Ace decided to keep couldn’t be traced. He took only a part of the billions he had made through the years. Not nearly enough for the authorities to wonder about it, but more than enough to live comfortably in this paradise for the rest of our lives, doing whatever we want to do with our time together.

  Tara is here with us, close to her friends, away from danger. I will always be grateful for what she’s done, and I can’t believe that I was jealous of her once. In my defense, at that time, I only knew that she was gorgeous. Which she is. Gorgeous and adorable. And a really good friend of ours. Jack Starr is here too, always at hand, always grateful and loyal.

  They smile as I walk past them with tears of joy pooling in my eyes. Both of them have left their lonely lives in Manhattan to come with us and find their future in Bali. I hear Jack is already dating a local, and I don’t think Tara will have any trouble finding someone.

  Others have stayed in the States, and now keep Little Vegas going. Pip Glover (or, rather, Ace Glover, following the tradition) now manages the business with an iron hand wrapped in a velvet glove, just like he taught him. He refused at first, saying that Harlan should have been the one to rise to the top. But Harlan’s death put him on the fast track. He’s dealt with the Chinese and for the time being there’s no immediate trouble on the horizon. I’m sure he will be a brilliant criminal mastermind... but we’ll keep well away from it all.

  I finally break down in tears when I reach the front seats and I see Misha there, tucked into an exquisite suit, looking at me with loving eyes. I might be even more happy for him than me. I saved him. We saved him. Now he’s found a new life beside Ace, as one of his closest aides, a world away from the frozen Russian streets where the gopniki roam incessantly, wasting their time and talents in a downward spiral of self-destruction. I only had to reach out to him, give him a call, and discover how sorry he was, how ashamed at the way he had talked to me. He was coming from the worst place, but everything is forgiven. His smile widens as his eyes meet mine, and in that split second we tell so many things to each other...

  The church is a tiny thing, a stone building at the top of a small hill. As I walk along the aisle, I can see the valley sprawling in the distance through the big ogival windows. But it’s ahead that I want to look. Ace Hart is there, all neat and dark in his black suit and impossibly shiny shoes. He is smiling, his blue eyes as limpid as the sky, all worries forgotten. I stand beside him, hold his hand, wipe a tear.

  As the officiant says his lines, I allow myself to drown into those eyes, and I promise myself I won’t ever be the reason they become cloudy with sorrow.

  Everything after that is like a dream.

  “I, Ovidius Hart, take you, Vanina Vokhtazin, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward...”

  “I, Vanina Vokhtazin, take you, Ovidius Hart, for my lawful husband, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health...”

  And the rings, and the kiss, and the cheers all around us. And the laughs and the tears and Ace lifting me like a barbell and taking me outside, and everyone following us as we go to our boat and sail away. Moments to remember forever.

  I didn’t know then and I didn’t know it for a long time, but right from the moment I stepped into that pub in Manhattan, reeking of despair, alcohol and dried tears, I was set on a path of happiness. It’s all in the cards. It’s always been.

  THE END

  ABOUT NATASHA TANNER

  Natasha Tanner is a hopeless romantic. She loves to write about bad boys and her stories always wind up with a happy ending and some steamy moments. She resides in Vermont and hopes you enjoy every one of her books as she strives to become a full-time writer.

  ALSO BY NATASHA TANNER

  DIRTY FIGHTER (with Roxy Sinclaire)

  HIT AND RUN (with Vesper Vaughn)

  SINNER (with Minx Hardbringer)

  TORN (a novella) (with Poppy Baskerville)

  DIRTY CHASE (with Ali Piedmont)

  Please see her Author Central Account on Amazon for a full list of her titles.

  Don’t forget to sign up for Natasha’s mailing list! Click here!

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  ABOUT MOLLY THORNE

  Molly Thorne is a new voice in the literary romance landscape. She likes her fiction with a rough edge, and that’s why she teamed up with Natasha Tanner and other authors to write about bad boys.

  Stay tuned for more stories by Molly!

  Follow her on Facebook

  Please see her Author Central Account on Amazon for a full list of her titles.

  Would you like to join the exclusive Molly Thorne Street Team and receive free advanced copies of her latest releases in exchange for an honest review?

  Sign up here!

  COMING SOON BY MOLLY THORNE

  OWNED (the Goldenhearts series / book three) (with H.W. Flamelle)

&nbs
p; An excerpt from

  CROTCH ROCKET

  “Good,” he said with a grin. “But first, we need to go somewhere.” He lowered my arms and began to pull me towards the back room where we stored their alcohol supply. He pushed open the heavy rubber flaps that served as the door and pushed me up against a pallet of beer. “You know what I think?” he said his breath heavy on my neck as he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I think you need to get laid.”

  My chest heaved as I took in his words. The feel of his body had my skin prickling as the area between my thighs grew wetter.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked as he thrust my hand down between his hips.

  “Yes,” I answered quietly as my fingers traced his hardness. He groaned lightly and then turned me to face the pallet as he ground his hips against my backside.

  “I’m so hard for you,” he commented as his hand snaked around my body to grip my breast.

  I knew I should stop him. I knew I should cry out and that I should push him away but it felt so good. Instead I stayed completely motionless as his other hand snaked around my body and up the inside of my shirt. I could feel the bare skin of his fingertips on my breast as he pulled one cup of my bra down and replaced it with his hand. My nipple instantly hardened beneath his touch and I couldn’t help myself as my body fell back against him. His tongue flicked my ear and teased down my neck. My mind reeled in a jumble of wanton desire as it sought to take in what was happening.

  Catching a grasp on reality I whispered, “Wait.” It was so quiet that I wondered if he had even heard it as his other hand reached up to pull down the remaining bra cup. His two hands clasped both of my tits as he hungrily sucked my neck. “I can’t,” I continued attempting to be more forceful. Yet he didn’t stop –and I didn’t want him to. He removed a single hand and undid the button of his jeans. I could hear the Zzzt sound of his zipper as it slid down. Seconds later both of his hands were gripping the hem of my skirt, and with little resistance the fabric slid upwards in folds around my hips. “I hate you,” I gasped as he ground his hardness against my backside. His fingers worked their way inside of the fabric of my panties and pulled them to the side.

  I heard him laugh lightly as he listened to my words. He knew I didn’t mean them. At the same moment they were leaving my lips I was pressing myself back against him practically begging for him to thrust himself into me. In fact, that was exactly what I was begging him for. I could have said “no” a million times but my body was saying “yes, yes, yes”, and in that moment so was my mind. The first and only time the two had agreed on anything having to do with Jacob. Right then, mind and body both wanted to be filled with him and only him - his smell, his voice, his body, his cock. All other thought drifted away and I found myself moaning as he pushed me forward over the beer stack.

  I gasped as his cock pressed between my legs and slid between my moist lips. I was so turned out that I couldn’t have stopped if I’d wanted to. He kicked me legs wider as his hand gripped my shoulder to hold me steady. With a single hard push, he thrust himself inside of me. All of my teenage dreams were finally coming true. He roughly pressed his hand to the back of my neck and held me down as he thrust into me hard and fast. This wasn’t love making, but something about it was different... it wasn’t just fucking either. As he thrust into me over and over, I could feel something deeper growing between us, something I couldn’t put a name to.

  I closed my eyes and listened to his passionate grunting. I loved the sound of him as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. Suddenly he released my neck and pulled my back up against his chest. He pulled my head to the side and bit at my neck as he continued to move inside of me. I couldn’t stop myself as I began to moan. The feel of him was too much to bear.

  “I’m going... I’m going to finish,” I gasped.

  “Me too,” he replied as his mouth teased my collar bone. “Let me feel you cum,” he whispered gruffly as he slammed himself in again.

  His words and the feeling of him inside of me were too much and I felt myself spilling over the edge and into oblivious. My entire body shook and pulsed as my orgasm roared through my body. I could feel myself clutching around him and with two more thrusts he was filling me. I could feel the heat of him as he gave me stream after stream. Then as quickly as it had started, it was over and he was pulling himself out of me and zipping up his jeans.

  I straightened my skirt and turned to face him. I felt suddenly embarrassed about what had just happened despite the fact that he had instigated it.

  “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way. Tell me about your bigger problems so that I can take care of them for you.”

  Want to keep reading? Check out this hot story by Natasha Tanner & Amelia Clarke!